


Is It Worth It?

by SilverFliesInBlueSugar



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Blood and Gore, F/M, Heavy Angst, Major Character Injury, Near Death Experiences, Sad Ending, The Gabriel/Nathalie is sorta interpretive. Their relationship can be completely platonic here., Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 13:42:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16327343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverFliesInBlueSugar/pseuds/SilverFliesInBlueSugar
Summary: In which whatever damage is done to the person HawkMoth controls happens to him too. This becomes a problem when one receives a deadly wound.





	Is It Worth It?

The person he had akumatized was a teenager, and thus of course reckless, even under his control. The girl dodged overdramatically to a yoyo throw from Ladybug, and resultantly fell off of the building they had been fighting on.

...And scraped her side quite drastically on a spike-lined gate before slamming into the ground.

A scream rang out, and he was unnervingly unsure on whether it was hers or his.

He doubled over, brain in a state of shock as the deep purple of his attire blackened. When he pressed his palm to it it came away reddened.

Somewhere through the shocked haze over his mind he registered that she had been ridden of the akuma, and that Chat Noir said something along the lines of 'hospital".

"Fucking Christ-" he managed, clutching his chest as if his innards would spill if he dared lift his arm. Which they might. He had no idea the severity of the wound.

This had never happened. Cuts and grazes were common - expected. Never had a victim become so severely harmed.

Not for the first or last time, he wished his miraculous wasn't such a double edged blade.

He detransformed, ignoring Nooroo's panicked cries as he stepped over to the platform, lowering into the upper floor of his house.

He slumped against the painting of Emilie, and felt a slight solace. This was for her. He should have expected this. This was nothing compared to the joy he would experience when he got his wish.

Unfortunately, emotional relief doesn't constitute physical relief.

"Sir, are-" Nathalie froze in the doorway, eyes wide. Gabriel looked down and blinked slowly at the way that most of his white undershirt and blazer were stained a stark red. He felt quite dizzy and tired.

"Sir, do not fall asleep!" Nathalie exclaimed, running over, and Gabriel started at the sheer panic on her face. It was rare for her to look anything other than blank, slightly tired or, sometimes, vaguely happy.

She pulled his blazer back before hissing sharply and wrenching it off, wrapping her own around his wound, pressing on it, face scrunched in concentration. He hissed, vision seeming to swim, vaguely aware that blood was smeared all over the wall behind him and the floor.

She slung his arm over her shoulder, pulling him to the bathroom, and he couldn't resist even if he wanted to as she pushed him to sit against the wall again. He felt drained. She pulled his shirt up, cleaning it, pulling so many different medical bottles out that he barely had time to register their names. He felt slight discomfort that he had no idea if she was saving or killing him.

"Do you know what you're doing?" he hissed, though not with malice. She nodded sharply, glasses bouncing on her nose, eyes determined. "Yes."

He decided to trust her.

Then she placed his hands either side of his wound and told him to hold them.

The pain was blinding.

She did her work quickly with medical tape, and somewhere through the white flashes and black spots in his vision he saw tears falling down her face.

"T-that bad?" he breathed, voice feeling far away. She nodded shakily, trembling.

After heavy bandaging she put him on his bed, and after a moment of non-frenzied quiet she collapsed, trying to cover her face with a hand as she violently sobbed.

His face filled with panic - he found no pleasure in making others miserable, no matter what HawkMoth had to do - and moved to reach to her, his wound pulling, and himself falling back onto the bed with a gargled sort of yelp.

She startled, wiping her eyes violently. "Stay.. Stay lying down" she managed. "I- i have to go clean up the blood. If Adrien sees it-"

"Go" he managed.

She nodded sharply and sprinted.

There was something abnormally, uncomprehendingly odd about seeing his employee, normally so reserved and cold, crying and running like this.

She staggered back in a half hour later. The pain hadn't lessened any, but he did feel slightly less like he was ready to be shipped off to the morgue.

Her face was ashen. Her hands were covered in blood, as were her trousers and some of her turtleneck, though it was less noticeable there due to the cloth being red.

"Is it worth it?" she breathed.

He couldn't reply.


End file.
